


all i've known is that there is an end

by OpportunisticHag



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Age Differences, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Choking, Dark Betty Cooper, F/M, FP jones is a bad dad who does Not try his best but at least he feels bad about it, Handcuffs, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 22:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11976231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpportunisticHag/pseuds/OpportunisticHag
Summary: In all honesty, when he had opened the door, he had expected some of the Serpents to drop by with a case of sympathy beer. Or maybe Fred, or even Archie, to ream him out for just how badly he had fucked things up this time. He was too busy wallowing in his self pity to even think about his son's poor girlfriend.Was she still his girlfriend? What's the protocol when your boyfriend heads to the middle of the country without a goodbye? Judging by the look on her face, the answer was not in her favor._AU where Jughead ended up leaving for Toledo. (but FP was released because that's not how jail works @CW)





	all i've known is that there is an end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [barbvin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbvin/gifts).



FP was home for exactly two hours after he was released before there was an insistent knocking at his door.

In all honesty, when he had opened the door, he had expected some of the Serpents to drop by with a case of sympathy beer. Or maybe Fred, or even Archie, to ream him out for just how badly he had fucked things up this time. He was too busy wallowing in his self pity to even think about his son's poor girlfriend.

Was she still his girlfriend? What's the protocol when your boyfriend heads to the middle of the country without a goodbye? Judging by the look on her face, the answer was not in her favor.

Another notch for ruining another bright-eyed Smith girl.

_Cooper, you sad fuck._

“Can I talk to you?” Betty's voice was strong, but everything else about her body language betrayed her. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her middle, trying their best to fend off the encroaching winter chill. Her head bowed, she was making perfect eye contact with his knees as her hair whipped around her face.

“Uh. Yeah?”

He waited patiently for her to say whatever she needed to say (“I left some stuff here.” “Do you think he’ll miss me?” “I hate you I hate you I hate you.”) until she finally looked up to his face and he took note of the dark circles under her eyes; she hadn’t been sleeping.

_That makes two of us._

“Inside?” she suggested pointedly.

FP barely managed to suppress an eye roll but he held the door out of her way. She started what he assumed was a fully prepared speech before she had even crossed the threshold, but it seemed to dissolve into a stream of consciousness ranting.

“Jughead is gone. A lot of people are ignoring that fact, acting like he was never here to begin with, but I hoped his dad could at least remember he exists.”

There was an edge to her voice, and he already didn’t like where this conversation was headed.

“I tried talking to Archie about him because I figured he would be nearly as upset as I was. He doesn’t get it. He just said that ‘maybe he’ll change his mind’ as though he’s still in town,” Betty scoffed.

“He was upset after the dance, so I don’t understand how he can be so okay about it now. It’s like they never really made up after their fight this past summer—”

_They had a fight this past summer?_

Betty either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the dumb look on his face because she kept rambling on, “so he doesn’t even care! And evidently there’s no conceivable way that Archie could possibly step away from his own experience of quote, “best friend” to try see things from the point of view of someone who’s in a different kind of relationship, and why that would be so upsetting. It’s useless trying to get through to him, but I realized something.”

_That Archie Andrews moves on from a relationship every time there’s a shift in the wind?_

“Jug left me just as much as he left you.”

There was a sympathetic look on her face. That took a left turn from the yelling and blame throwing he had been expecting from her.

“I think maybe, in a way, we’re in the same boat— I cared about him. I loved him. How could he leave me?” Her eyes were welling up, and he did _not_ have the emotional capacity to deal with tears right now.

“But there's not much I can do to figure it now, is there?” Betty gave a bitter, almost hysterical-sounding laugh that didn't seem right coming from her pretty mouth, then pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as if to prevent anything else from escaping without her permission. She turned her face away from him and took stock of her surroundings.

“Can I have a drink?”

“Betty, your mom—”

“I didn’t ask her,” she interrupted with a roll of her eyes, “I asked you.”

_She’s already going to kick your ass for having her daughter in your trailer in the first place so what is there left to lose?_

With a sigh, FP waved his arm to say ‘help yourself’. She walked over to the kitchen and plucked the first bottle her fingers grasped from the top of the refrigerator. She navigated the mess of empties littering the countertop to find two clean glasses, then poured them both a generous splash of bottom shelf whiskey.

Betty tossed the drink back in one shot before she handed him the other tumbler with a grimace. She threw all her weight into sitting next to him, under the cover of his arm on the back of the couch.

She leaned against him, and his grip on his drink tightened.

“I was blaming you. I spent a _lot_ of time and energy blaming you,” she admitted. “Maybe you were the catalyst, but he made his own decision.”

_Is she trying to convince me or herself?_

Betty moved just enough to pull back and tilt her face up toward his. “He left both of us alone.”

He tried to ignore her eyes darting down to his lips.

“I think we only have each other now.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth, but when she tried to kiss him properly FP gently pushed her away.

“Betty, I don’t—"

“I’ve seen how you look at me,” she interrupted with a whisper.

Fuck he wished he could deny that. What do you do when a pretty blonde cheerleader with a chip on her shoulder is always flouncing around? He had felt like a dirty old man checking out her legs, her ass, but always tried to justify it as a passing glance.

Definitely not.

The arm that had been resting on the back of the couch moved of its own accord, and he brushed her hair behind her ear, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb.

She tried again, leaning into him and kissing him slowly. He didn’t resist this time, he fully embraced this life of complete sin. He put his hand on the back of her neck, tilting her face for better access to her mouth, and he felt a hitch in her chest.

When they separated for a breath, she blinked up at him with the ghost of a smile on her face.

She took his glass out of his hand and he was about to start a hypocritical lecture of enjoying alcohol responsibly (“Know your limit, stay within it, Betty!”) but she merely placed it on the table near the couch.

And suddenly he had a lap full of Betty, frantically drawing his mouth to hers. It could hardly be called a kiss, all harsh teeth and tongue. He let out a surprised grunt, but welcomed the intrusion. His hands traversed her sides, skirting the edge of her chest, resting against her ribcage.

He felt like a fucking teenager trying to cop a feel.

“It’s okay, you can touch me. Please touch me,” Betty panted.

The longing in her voice convinced him, and immediately he had one hand on her chest and the other on her ass, forcing her closer. She bit at the junction of his neck and shoulder, and all he could do was tug her hair.

“Let’s go to your room.”

The implication alone had him humping up against her, and she gave a breathless laugh before she extracted herself from him entirely.

God help him but he wanted this. Wanted her, wanted to give her everything she thought she needed from him right then.

She took a few steps backwards, “Coming?” falling from her lips with a cheeky smile.

And Betty, with a sway of her hips he hadn’t witnessed since he was 17 years old, walked straight to his bedroom on the far side of the trailer. _Fuck_.

If there was ever any doubt, he was going straight to hell.

By the time FP made his way down the hall to stand in the doorway, Betty had dropped her coat and bag on the floor and was sat on the edge of his bed to untie her shoes.

“You definitely don’t waste any time.”

Now caught, a slow smile crept its way across her face.

“I’m trying to seduce you before you change your mind.” He raised a brow at that but she shrugged, unabashed, and leaned back to rest her hands on the bed behind her. “Just being honest.”

He sauntered over, coming to a stop between her knees. He put his hands on either side of her head and, though tremendously obscene thoughts rushed through his mind, he bent down to kiss her slowly, almost sweetly. She smiled against his mouth but eventually pulled back from him.

Betty scooted back on her hands to the center of the bed and crooked a finger at him, beckoning. “Come here.”

Who was he to deny an official proposal like that?

He crawled over her, fondling more and more of her body as he went. When he rested his weight on top of her she hummed pleasantly, and when one of his legs pressed between hers her chest heaved in anticipation.

Betty reached up to grasp at his shoulders, hauling him down. She licked into his mouth while he caressed her sides, before moving to her breasts and her hips jerked against his in response. He couldn’t help but feel triumphant when she started tugging at the hem of his t-shirt.

“Off,” she ordered, and he obeyed, removing the offending garment as quickly as he could before sweeping back down and pressing his chest against hers.

She worked her arms down between their torsos in order to pop open the button on her jeans. FP took over from there, lowering the zipper and pulling the waistband over her hips. His fingers froze though, when he saw black lace underneath the denim. He managed to drag his gaze up to her face and he decided he could worship the devilish grin he saw there.

“Maybe I had an ulterior motive coming over here tonight.”

FP surged up to kiss her again. Quick, frenzied pecks from her cheeks to her chin. “You’re gonna kill me, kid,” he huffed into her neck. He felt more than heard the light giggle she exhaled.

He only pulled back from her to guide her hips up, followed by tugging her jeans and panties down in one motion. Then he settled himself back over the length of her body, one hand behind her head to keep her focus on his face while Betty pulled the other between her thighs.

_Well, she certainly knows what she wants._

He passed his fingers over her lightly, groaning when he felt just how wet she was. “Fuck, Betty, you’re soaked.”

She flushed red at that, but he wasn’t about to start letting her get embarrassed now. He kissed her hotly, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She returned the kiss with fervor, grappling onto his arm when he stroked his fingers over her slit.

FP only broke the kiss to watch her face as he dragged his hand through her folds, smirking when her mouth dropped open and her brow furrowed. He nipped at her jaw while he worked her with his fingers, Betty whimpering when he circled her clit slowly.

Betty’s eyelids fluttered shut as her hips bucked up towards his hand. He allowed it for a minute, stroked his thumb over her jaw and tightened his hold on the back of her neck when she sighed happily. Then he removed his other hand from her suddenly, grinning completely when she whined and her eyes shot open to look at him once more.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart. Eyes on me.”

She bit down on her bottom lip but nodded, and FP rewarded her by sliding two fingers inside her. When he felt just how tight she was he groaned into her neck once more, his dick aching at the thought.

Betty moaned a quiet, “Please, _please_ ,” and he couldn’t punish her anymore. He pulsed his whole hand against her, scissoring his fingers. She let out a cry, her grip on his arm tight enough to pierce his skin with her nails. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment but remembered his rule, quickly opening them again, so he decided to be kind.

“Come on, Betty. Come for me.”

He kissed her once more, and she scrambled to keep him close. He curled his fingers upwards and applied a steady pressure on her clit with his thumb until she was coming, a moaning and sweating mess, thighs clenching around his hand.

FP kept stroking her slick flesh while she came, and kissed her at a leisurely pace as her body’s shivers died down. Betty pushed his face away to gasp in a breath, so he shifted gears to bite at her neck before soothing the redness with his tongue.

“That was…” He gently removed his fingers from her, his hand going to stroke her hip instead when she moaned in protest.

FP chuckled. “Yes?”

Once she had finally released his arm, he enjoyed the slight pressure of her fingers running over his shoulders as he sucked a mark onto the column of her throat.

“No, it's just... I hadn't expected to be comparing the two of you.”

FP pulled his body back from hers to study her properly. She already looked confused, scanning his face for some sign of what had changed as though she couldn’t piece things together herself – that mentioning the fucked up situation they were in brought him back to reality. He turned away from her fully and rolled onto his back.

He sighed, closing his eyes. If he kept looking at her he wouldn’t be able hold himself back. Hair mussed, lips swollen, naked from the waist down (he couldn’t even undress her properly, for fuck’s sake), she was the image of temptation and he already longed to touch her again. He fell back against the pillows and shoved his hands into his hair to keep them away her, forcing a slow breath through his nose. Betty shifted next to him uneasily.

“You should go home, Betty.”

_Leave me here to jack off alone. Wouldn’t be the first time._

She waited a beat, then he felt her stand up from the bed. He heard her gather her things from the floor, shaking out her wrinkled clothing, picking up her purse. The bed shifted once more, and he opened his eyes to see her kneeling over him. One of her hands ran lightly over his arm, extracting his fist from his hair, and she weaved her fingers between his.

It was a nice gesture. He almost wanted to call it _cute_. It reminded FP just how sweet and perfect Miss Betty Cooper was and always had been, trying to comfort everyone, and served as a reminder for how he had already fucked up her life.

Maybe that was enough to distract him. Maybe it was the fact that he noticed she hadn’t put her pants back on. Whatever it was, his mind was too incapacitated to take note of anything new, until he felt a cold weight on his wrist.

The oh too familiar feeling of a handcuff.

He stared at his own hand while he waited for his brain to catch up, which gave Betty ample time to maneuver his arms in order to lock him against the headboard.

“We’re not done.”

While FP was trying to figure out when he had stumbled into an alternate universe, she settled comfortably on his lap.

“Jesus, Betty, what the hell are you doing?”

“Honestly? I hadn’t planned the specifics, but now I’m getting some ideas.” Betty ground her hips in a tight circle against FP’s crotch and he held back a groan.

“By all means,” had he been in his right mind FP could think up a hundred dirty ways to wipe the filthy smirk off her face, “feel free to object.”

He really did intend to be a good person for once and put a stop to everything, but all the words he could think of died when she finally pulled her shirt over her head. He could only appreciate the black lace bra covering her for a brief moment before she reached behind to remove it. Then suddenly tits. Admittedly, that was a better view.

She moved her hips again and he could feel how wet she was even through his jeans. The pressure had him reeling, straining against the handcuffs, itching to grab at her.

Betty undid his jeans, only heaving them down to his thighs before she wrapped her hand around his dick, stroking slowly while she looked down at him, devious.

“He needed you.”

“What?”

Evidently, his mind was still having trouble keeping track of what exactly was going on.

_What the fuck is happening?_

“You can’t—” she cut him off with a hand pushed firmly over his mouth

“ _He needed you_ , and you had more excuses.” She tightened her grasp of his cock, near to the point of pain.

“Betty, fuck—"

“Stop talking!” she snapped.

She released his cock but gripped his jaw in her fingertips, a bastardization of what he had done to her earlier.

“It was your idea, right? To go to Toledo? You got his hopes up with the prospect of ‘family’ and you screwed him over again.”

She was grinding against him, practically dripping, and he yearned for her to have mercy and fuck him already.

“You feel like he left you but you weren’t here to begin with.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” He snarled up at her, his throat tightening around the words. “Yes, I’m a piece of shit who wasn’t there for him! I know it’s my fault!”

It looked like those words were enough for Betty to reach serenity, and with a patronizing, “Good boy,” FP could almost see the canary feather poking through her teeth.

“Fuck you,” he bit out.

“I’m trying,” she quipped, positioning his cock to guide him inside her.

At long last she sank down onto him, her head falling forward with a moan. She gave herself a moment to adjust to the size of him, then inched her hips up. She moved at a torturously slow pace and he ached to touch her, pull her hair and slam into her.

Instead, Betty added a slow roll to her hips, and all he could do was try to gain leverage against the bed to fuck up into her.

She raked her nails from his shoulders to his chest, digging into his skin and he hissed at the sting. “Fuck, you’re such a—"

“Shh,” she murmured, bending forward to quiet him with a kiss.

He tugged at her lip with his teeth, biting down until he was sure it was painful. A low moan was torn from her throat and she clenched around him. In retaliation one of her hands shot to his throat, giving a light squeeze.

“I’m still in charge here,” she stated firmly. As if to prove her point, her free hand drifted down to rub her clit.

_Betty Cooper, on your dick, choking you and touching herself. Holy shit. Holy shit._

The hand on his neck clenched when her breath hitched, and FP felt the tension shoot straight south. He couldn’t help the jolt of his hips, but Betty didn’t seem to mind. If anything it spurred her on, finally moving more quickly on top of him. He felt the telltale tightening of his balls as she clenched around him, and Betty gave one final hard squeeze to his throat. Finally he was coming into her, gasping shallow breaths as writhed on top of him.

He watched, almost in awe as she came with a cry before she fell forward, drained.

As soon as Betty had regained her breath, she eased off of FP and started to gather her clothes that had been strewn about the room.

“What, you gonna leave me here to starve now?”

Betty leveled a glare at him. “I’m getting a head start because you can’t chase me outside if you’re naked. Calm down.”

He huffed and watched her dress, holding back all comments when he saw her back in her lingerie. She fished around in her purse to find the key to the handcuffs, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her while she freed him.

“I’m sure I’ll see you later.” Betty was so nonchalant it was like nothing had happened, and he stared at her bemused.

She must have taken pity on him because she gave a light kiss to the corner of his mouth once again. “Maybe you can come over for dinner again. Finally try that peach pie.”

And then she was gone, out of his bedroom and out of the trailer with a slam of the door, and all FP could do was inspect the crescent shaped wounds on his chest - the only proof she had actually been there.

_What the fuck._

 


End file.
